by B. C. Sirrom
In the Infirmary
“Jay! Jay! Are you awake?” I was at the back door to the infirmary. I couldn’t think clearly enough to remember if Jay was on duty tonight or not. I banged on the door anyway.
“I am now. Quiet, before we both get dishonorably discharged.” Jay cracked the door so I could slip in. The club was only three miles from the base; it felt like I ran a marathon. I couldn’t speak at first. Concerned, Jay brought a cool, damp cloth and pressed it to the back of my neck. “What happened, Walker?”
“I don’t know...” I gasped. “There was a girl, a dancer at the club. She started...We started...” I suddenly couldn’t tell my friend what I did. But I could tell she already knew. “Then the manager came it. The girl...something was wrong. She looked happy but it wasn’t right. She wouldn’t get up. It was like she was drained, too tired to care or move...but content.”
We were in the one of the exam rooms. I didn’t remember how I got there. I guess for the second time that night, a woman led me mindlessly to a room. I finally calmed down enough to sit on the exam table.
“What happened next?” Jay prompted.
“The manager told me to leave. I did. I just took off. Ran straight here.” I dropped my head to my hands. “I don’t know what happened, Jay. One minute, I was...”
“Having sex.” Jay filled in the blank.
“Yeah. Not exactly what I imagined. It scared me. I don’t know what would have happened if the manager hadn’t come in.”
Suddenly Jay was beside me, holding me. I felt overwhelmed and bereft, like I missed out on something very precious, but didn’t know what it was.
“shhhh It’s okay. It’s okay.” Jay soothed. “It’s not your fault. That girl probably took something before she went on stage. It’s okay.”
I wondered though, Was it my fault?
Jay’s touch became less friendly concern and more friendly.
“Jay, please don’t.” I pulled away.
“Why? I’m not as pretty as your stripper whore?” She sounded more hurt than angry.
“You’re my best friend.”
“That’s even more reason why we should. We care for each other.” Jay stood to face me as I stayed seated on the exam table. Jay nudged her way between my thighs, yet I was the one who felt trapped. She traced the outline of my chest through the damp material. She no longer looked like my “buddy”. Her face was full of feminine wonder. “You’re special, Jon.” She whispered as if she didn’t want to frighten me.
I never noticed how small she was before. Her toughness and take-on-the-world attitude masked her natural vulnerability. Now, she was exposed before me. Her eyes and posture pleaded with me to return her affection.
She wanted me to love her.
The surge of power I felt earlier at the club started to tingle again in my chest. What had been a heady drug-like high was now a raging sense of supremacy.
“Are you sure?” I gave her one last out.
“Yes.” Her answer was a throaty purr she accompanied with action. She removed her uniform with the speed and efficiency only military practice can instill. For one moment, she stood before me completely nude. Her bright dog tags hung between her exposed breasts. Her hair was still in its neat uniform bun. Her obvious arousal was juxtaposed the remnants of her military image.
It was exciting.
I gained more confidence with Jay and the situation. She may have instigated the act, but I was in control. Or so I thought.
Emboldened, I turned Jay around. Her sculpted back and flawless skin amped up my already pitched desire. First, I pulled the dog tags off over her head. Then I started freeing her bound hair. Jay had chestnut brown hair. It fell to the middle of her back, but tonight was the first time I ever saw it down. I finger combed her incredible mane. She moaned, enjoying my attentions. Growing impatient, she pressed her curved bottom against my erection.
“Ready?” I teased.
“Please.” My once-proud friend begged.
That plea triggered the monster I held in check. It was the demon I feared but never acknowledged.
I flipped her onto the exam table. She tried to simultaneously pull me to her and rip my shirt off. She was urgent and clumsy. I let her wrestle with my shirt while I opened my pants. My flesh was hot and massive. I was not being egotistical. I was honestly a little scared looking at it. Jay writhing beneath me brought me back to the moment. Any extraneous thoughts were instantly nullified.
I entered her too quickly. I couldn’t stop myself and she didn’t protest. There was no slowing down. Both our bodies demanded more and more. Jay stopped making coherent words. She screamed and moaned, but always incessant for more.
I had heard of out-of-body experiences before, the sensation of being dislodged from one’s body. It’s described as being out of control, of watching yourself in third person. I had a complete in-body experience. I felt everything; was aware of everything; in control of everything. I no longer felt tethered by mundane human considerations, like exhaustion, weakness or empathy.
I don’t know how long we were on the table with my flesh punishing hers or her rewarding me with cries of delight when the scales began to shift in my favor. My energy mounted as hers waned. My muscles were fortified by the exchange while Jay grew less responsive.
But she never asked me to stop. It is important you remember that. She urged me on to the very end.
Everything felt better than perfect. Light sweat on scorching skin. Her hair flying about her face. Jay’s breathless pleas for ‘more’. There was no end to my stamina. My hips rocked forward ruthlessly. My body took and took. With each stroke I grew stronger and less human.
Poor Jay was no match for me.
I felt the end was coming for both of us, though in many ways it was the beginning for me.
Jay managed to curl her arms around my neck. She was too weak to pull me closer. Instead, I cradled her back, being sure to support her head and neck.
“Don’t stop. Whatever you do, don’t stop.” She managed to gasp.
I carried out her request. I put in all my effort; depleted all my reserves. I hit the wall of my orgasm and powered through.
It was sublime. It was pure instinct and amplified senses. I had no worries, no higher thoughts beyond the moment.
My breathing leveled. Yet my heart raced. My chest actually hummed with pent up energy. I felt the untapped potential of my own body. I should have been a spent, worn mess. Instead I felt like a god.
Jay hadn’t moved. I rose onto my elbows. “Jay?” I pushed her hair from her face. She wore the same blissed out expression as Candy, except Private Jennifer Nelson was dead.
I left Jay on the exam table. I covered her body with a hospital sheet to save her modesty as much as I could. Her dog tags were still lying abandoned on the floor. Selfishly, I wanted a memento. I took the one from the smaller chain and following military tradition, put the other back around her neck.
She could have been asleep. Her face was serene. I envied her peace. I was angry with her, too. Not just for dying, but for making me recognize the dark need, the dark power within me. Surely, I was in part, responsible for her death. I was as guilty as if I strangled the life from her with my bare hands. Yet, the fault lay with her. The horror at what I had done was compromised by the sheer delight forever set in my friend’s visage and the clear memory of her pleas for ‘more’. Her vitality was spent; no, not spent. Drained. I sucked it from her like a mighty parasite.
I had trouble locating my sorrow. In part, because my body felt profoundly good and because I felt I spared Jay some cruelty of this world. She as a female officer serving during a nasty conflict, her potential was curbed by policy. Her likely path was a mediocre career, bad marriage and bitterness. I freed her from all of that.
My physical sense of well-being was offset by two realizations: I wanted to feel the surge of power while was with Jay and the stripper...and I was willing to accept the consequences.
